


Where There’s Smoke

by LarGibbon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, One Shot, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Protective Chloe Decker, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26614645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarGibbon/pseuds/LarGibbon
Summary: Chloe finds herself interpreting Lucifer’s metaphors even after she *knows* and he comes back from hell.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124





	Where There’s Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Thousands of years in hell and not only was Chloe not understanding but Lucifer wasn’t really that shaken? Naw.

Comfort. That’s what it was. No statement of immortality or power or anything so pretentious, and Lucifer could be that.But that tremor in his hand wasn’t from striking a light. His trembling lip wasn’t the balancing of a cigarette. The timing was always all wrong and it was too convenient that he wouldn’t meet her gaze as long as he could occupy himself with the mechanical demands of this habit.

Before, she knew it was a nervous tick, something he did when he was overwhelmed or anxious. He always smelled like smoke when he was suffering.Now... smoke saturated his suits, his hair; his skin if you were lucky enough to get that close. It followed him, if one’s own scent can be said to follow. 

“Lucifer,” she murmured, reaching out to lift his chin and meet his eyes, “are you ok?”

A thin smile flickered in his tormented eyes for just a blink and dropped the pretense when they searched hers, “I—I don’t know.”

She nodded and gently dragged the cigarette from his lips, observing it between her fingers as if it were the first time she’d seen such an object, “I always thought this habit of yours was just playboy recklessness; something people do to deny or... maybe to embrace their mortality. But now I know it just— it reminds you of home.”

“Home,” Lucifer exhaled in a mirthless laugh, clenching his fists against his knees, “that’s not what I would call Hell, Detective.”

She rolled the cigarette between her fingers thoughtfully, “Do you ever miss it?”

“What, Hell?” he scoffed, “of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well... you were there a long time.”

“Yes.”

She raised the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag, closing her eyes so she didn’t miss the subtle flavors that swirled across her tongue.Bitter. Burnt. Just a hint of something oddly sour.

“Detective...” Lucifer cautioned, overly conscious of how his habits could affect a mortal.

She exhaled and opened her eyes, steadying her gaze on him, so close she’d barely need to lean into him to close the gap, “you’re out of control, everywhere all the time. Except there. Hell is... it’s  _yours_. You control it.”

“I hate it, Detective,” he reminded her with pointed eye contact, sliding the cigarette from its spot between her fingers and bringing it to his mouth as he stood and walked to the bar.

“I know,” she shook her head, “But I think... maybe it’s because it is yours, because it had nothing to do with Him, and that’s all you ever wanted... something you fought and fell and suffered for... maybe you blame yourself for all that suffering. Your Dad made a value judgment about earth when he called it ‘good,’ and... well, maybe you did the same with Hell.”

“I am NOT my Father,” he seethed through gritted teeth, slamming his fist on the counter, then added in a low huff, “and you are not Linda.”

“No, no, you’re right. She would be much better at this... But I know you, Lucifer,” she cautiously approached his back, still turned to her, “and you’re  not your Father. You’re right. You’re clear about what you want. You don’t make people guess and then condemn them for getting it wrong. I just mean... maybe you hate hell so much because you  decided it was bad; a punishment. But it’s yours, not His. You decide what it is and how you feel about it.”

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, two fingers suspending his cigarette just above his head, an increasingly long column of ash refusing to fall, “I don’t see how it could be anything but a punishment, Detective.”

She touched his shoulder, gently turning him towards her, “what’s it like?”

He laughed, not knowing where to start, “it’s... hot, that much is true. It’s dark. Everything is slightly off, slightly  less than it is on earth.”

“But you’re the ‘light bringer.’ How could it be dark?”

“I...” he turned away.

“Ok, what do you do when you’re there?” She redirected.

“Rule, mostly. I make decisions and put out fires— so to speak.”

“What do you do when you’re not ruling?”

“I— well, I engage in quite a lot of escapism, Detective,” he flicked the ash column carelessly away.

“Like what?”

“Films, mostly. I’ve seen everything humans have created—“

“Seriously? Everything? And Hot Tub High School is still one of your favorites somehow?”

“Of course, Detective,” he grinned, eyeing her up and down, “not every leading lady is so... talented.”

Her closed-off smirk made it clear she wanted him to continue so he did, taking another drag, “and well, drugs and alcohol help, though nothing in hell is quite as delicious as the things you can find on earth. I play all the instruments humans created and I invented a few of my own. And then there’s always demon sex, hot in every sense of the word, and of course fight clubs and the odd torture.”

“Sounds... lonely,” she admitted.

“What? Well. Yes, I suppose it is.”

He ground the cigarette stub into a nearby ashtray and handed her a drink, a small smile hanging onto the corner of his mouth, “that’s what vacations are for.”

She sipped thoughtfully, silence settling over them.

“Do you think you would hate it as much if I was there?”

He scoffed, “you’ll never be there.”

“But if I was,” she insisted.

“I... honestly, I can’t imagine it.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing  good in Hell, Detective. So you...” he smiled bitterly, “well, you wouldn’t belong.”

“That can’t be true,” Chloe traced a watermark on the bar with her finger.

“I assure you, it is. No good has ever graced the gates of hell. Father’s grand design.”

“I don’t know,” she returned her gaze to him with a small smile, “you’re there.”

He huffed a grunt that was half-dismissive, half-affectionate, searching her eyes for any hint of deception and finding none.

“You can’t, Detective,” he sighed, adding softly, “please.”

“We’re just talking, Lucifer, I don’t know what will happen when I die or if I’ll even have a choice, but I don’t want to spend eternity without you and even if I did, I’d never let you spend yours alone.”

“Detective...”

“Lucifer, you obviously hate both hell and heaven. I’ve never tried either but how do you know I wouldn’t hate heaven just as much as you did?”

“Because you belong there, Detective!” He blurted in frustration, pawing at his inside breast pocket for the pack he typically kept there, then beating his remaining pockets when it wasn’t, “I don’t. Never have, never will.”

He scanned the room for his cigarettes and spotted the pack across the room, passing by her to retrieve it. 

She caught his arm as he passed, fixed a steady gaze on him and let her hand gently trail down to his fingers, calming him. Then without blinking, she leveled him in that icy even-toned way of hers, “don’t you  dare tell me who I am, Lucifer Morningstar. I decide what I want and where I belong. Not you, not fate, not your father. Got it?”

Guilt and shock swept over him like the descent to hell and he opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but every excuse that came to mind just sounded like one of father’s many attempts to control him. Swallowing his excuses in admiration, he nodded and she released him, sighing.

“This is all new to me. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t belong in heaven and I don’t belong in hell. I don’t know. The only thing I know, Lucifer, is that I belong with you. Isn’t that worth a shot?”

“Detective, I would never condemn you to an eternity of misery just f-for,” he sighed, “for me.”

“You’re not, Lucifer. I choose my own path just as much as you. Besides, who else is going to even think about my happiness in the afterlife? Who is going to have my back in heaven?”

“Amenadiel, I’m sure,” he frowned, “and your family and friends whenever they arrive.”

“And who’s going to have yours in hell?”

“Well Maze, naturally.”

“Lucifer, you know I trust Maze, I do, and I know you have a lot of history together but... can you honestly say you wouldn’t ever need your partner?”

“I—“ he turned and crossed the room, retrieving the cigarettes with shaking fingers, “Your needs are more important to me, Detective.”

“That’s exactly why I’m not afraid to go to hell,” she gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he jumped, not having seen her follow him, “as long as it’s with you.”

He groaned and set the pack back down with a note of finality, steadily eyeing her, “Detective...” a note of warning in his voice.

But what could he say? She’d made up her mind. The idea that she could mean it... His mouth went dry. No one had ever voluntarily gone to hell for him. Story of his life, really. But for better or worse, it seemed she truly was a miracle in every sense.

“Lucifer, I—“ she swallowed, wide-eyed and nervous like the first time she’d said it, “ I love you. ”

“Detective...” he laughed quietly, looking at the floor, “I’ve called heaven, hell and earth ‘home’ at one time or another. I’ve known countless, perhaps infinite, angels, humans and demons who have professed their respect and loyalty to me. But you—“

He picked her up in one sweeping motion, laughing in surprise, her arms flung around his neck and legs at his sides as he easily held her there.

“Detective  Chloe Jane Decker ,” he finally, finally smiled that rare, genuine smile she’d been waiting to see since his return, “none have had your courage,”

He tenderly kissed her forehead,

“your kindness,”

her cheek,

“Your goodness,”

first one eyelid,

“your strength,”

then the next,

“your intelligence,” 

the space behind her ear, causing her to gasp,

“your forgiveness, your patience, your mercy,”

he whispered into her skin as he pepperedher skin with kisses down the column of her throat as she leaned back, laughing breathlessly,

“in all who are or have ever been, Detective, there is none like you.”

He rested his head against hers,

“whether you’re mine forever or just for one lifetime, I— well, just know that you have the Devil’s whole heart.”

Her mouth dry and eyes wet, she pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, “and who knew the Devil could be so sweet?”

He laughed and she pulled back to look him seriously in the eye, “You’re not, you know.”

At his raised eyebrow she continued, “The Devil, I mean. Maybe you can be, maybe you were, but... to me?You’re Lucifer Morningstar: my best friend, my partner, the love of my life and the man who lit the stars and conquered hell just to be here with me tonight.”

He kissed her with everything he had, then, feeling for the first time like the man she’d described. He carried her to his room, laying her gently on the bed and sliding down to look up at her from his knees on the floor. She beckoned him with a crooked finger and he grinned. He would take his time, though. Lucifer had been in this position exactly once and had sworn never again. But he was bound to revel in worshipping the one woman who could bring the Devil, willingly, to his knees.

And in the early hours of the morning, when they’d both been thoroughly spent, he’d reached for her hand, not a cigarette. He’d kissed her lips and breathed her in, instead, knowing now how real comfort; a real home could feel.


End file.
